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Hutch parked the Torino inside the precinct garage and pocketed the keys. He went up to the squad room and through into Dobey’s office.
The Captain was behind his desk and seated in one of the visitors’ chairs was the new Chief of Police. Hutch had not met the big boss before and waited for Dobey to introduce him.
The Chief told Hutch to sit down.
“How’s your partner?”
“He’ll be fine sir. He has a broken leg, but otherwise no problems.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“No sir. I was arresting the other man.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“No…no; there were no shots if that’s what you mean.”

Dobey leaned forward. “Did you hear anyone shout or anything like that?”
“No. Look Captain - Chief, sir – I ran into the passageway and Starsky was already down and out cold. I can’t tell you anything else.”
“You saw no-one else in the vicinity?” The Chief seemed to weight every word of the question as if he was implying that Hutch had missed something.
“No.”

The Chief stood up to leave and both Dobey and Hutch rose from their chairs.
“Dobey, I leave it to you to sort this out.”

“Captain; would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“If I knew that Hutch…”

Hutch went to his desk and rolled a fresh page into the typewriter. He wondered if by typing up the report he might remember something, but he knew that there was nothing for him to remember. When he had finished he put the report on Dobey’s desk and went home.

Hutch had just moved. His new apartment was in Venice Place; a building that had somehow survived the ravages of re-modeling since it had been built in the forties. It had a vague air of a Spanish Mission or a ranch house in New Mexico. Somehow it appealed to Hutch’s fond memories of his days as a student and then as a drop-out. His apartment was above a store and the rest of the first floor was occupied by a restaurant that he’d never eaten in. The entrance to the apartments had a door decorated with a wooden cut out of a tree on the glass panel. The front doors of the two apartments at the top of the steep steps up to the second floor echoed the same design. It suited Hutch’s leftover hippy décor. Starsky had teased him so often about his plants and his stacks of paintings on the floor. He stopped short – if Starsky had a broken leg it would be a while before he could get up the stairs and enjoy a couple of beers before going home.
Hutch went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He looked again and saw that he had the remains of a pizza so he put that in the oven to re-heat. He took the beer into the bathroom and showered in the time it took for the pizza to be edible again. He came out of the bathroom wrapped in an orange terry robe, the pizza smelled like it was ready and he burnt his finger on the oven shelf when he took it out. He ran his finger under the cold tap and settled down on the sofa to eat his lonely dinner. He and Starsky had planned a Chinese meal to celebrate the anniversary of their first meeting, five years ago when Hutch was still naïf and Starsky seemed so cocksure.

A lot of water had gone under the bridge since then. They’d seen each other through injuries and tragedies. Hutch had been addicted to heroin and Starsky had pulled him through. Starsky had been shot in the shoulder and Hutch had kept him alive in the back office of a restaurant. Both had lost women they loved. For Hutch the grief had been more distant – he and Vanessa had divorced with acrimony; he no longer loved her. But for Starsky the loss had been devastating. Starsky the free-wheeling bachelor had been ready to get married and the woman that he loved had been killed by a vengeful madman. Hutch remembered Starsky’s helpless tears as he came out of the hospital room where Terri had died. Hutch realized how much he and Starsky loved one another; like brothers; like twins but never like lovers. Starsky had once said to him “You know that corny song? “ He’d burst into song “some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger…and fly to her side.” He’d stopped giggling “Ok so I can’t hit the high notes. But what I mean is I think that we all have maybe one or two pre-destined strangers out there; maybe both sexes. Most of us are attracted to the opposite sex so that’s the side we fly to. I guess you and I are the strangers, but the flight path is less direct.” He’d slipped into his Bogart voice and added “And anyway sweetheart you’re not kosher and my mother would never forgive me if I married a shiksa!” Hutch had to ring ‘Uncle Al’ to get the translation of that one.

Hutch went to bed and slept right through the night.

Six o’clock the next morning the alarm woke him. He got out of bed, splashed water on his face, pulled on his jogging clothes and set out for a mile run. When he got home he showered and drank his “glop” then set out to work.

On the way to the station he made a detour and went to Starsky’s place. The apartment was in uncharacteristic chaos – Starsky was getting ready to move house too.
Hutch went into the bathroom and threw a toothbrush, toothpaste and shaving equipment into a bag. In the bedroom he went to the bureau and picked up a book with a bookmark in it. Starsky was reading the latest Philip Roth – not what Hutch would have expected but that’s Starsky for you. He looked around the apartment to see what else he could take to his partner to lighten the monotony of a hospital. Starsky’s current modeling project was too big and too fragile. Hutch settled on a pack of cards – that way Starsk could practice his magic tricks to impress the nurses (as if he would need to!) or just play solitaire.

Back in the car Hutch decided to go to the hospital first. He parked outside the main entrance and made his way up to the orthopedic wing where Starsky had been installed the day before. He stopped at the nurses’ station to check that it was ok to go in and see his partner; the nurse told him to sit and wait “The doctor’s with him right now so I’m afraid you can’t go straight in.” Hutch looked around and went over to the brown fake leather couch against one of the walls. “I think these things must be standard issue” he said to himself as he sat down. How many times had he or Dave sat on one of these uncomfortable couches and waited, hoping for good news? He didn’t have time to think about it. The door to Starsky’s room opened and the doctor came out and set off up the corridor before Hutch could stop him to ask how his partner was. The nurse called over to Hutch that he could go in. He stopped in front of the door and knocked gently. “Yea?” The voice inside seemed muffled and for a moment Hutch checked up at the number on the door to make sure he hadn’t made a mistake.

Hutch opened the door and went into Starsky’s room. As he crossed towards the bed he saw that Starsky had turned his face away from his visitor.
“Hey that’s a fine way to greet your partner.” Hutch tried to sound cheerful but what he saw did not lift his spirits. Starsky was flat on his back. His left leg was encased in a plaster cast and raised slightly off the bed and attached to a kind of sling. A cable led from the sling up through a hook attachment above the bed and down to a weight hanging about fifteen inches below the end of the bed – not quite touching the floor. “Jeez Starsky….” He stopped. Starsky still hadn’t moved his head and now Hutch could see why; tears were streaming down his partner’s face.
“Hey Starsk. Hey Dave come on, what is it? You can pour it all out to me you know.”
Starsky sniffed and turned towards Hutch. “You wanna find me a Kleenex.” Hutch took a kleenex from the bedside table and Starsky took it wipe his eyes and then blow his nose.
“I’m gonna be in here for a while. That” (he nodded at the contraption holding his leg) “that is - I quote – precautionary traction. The doctor says I have to stay like this for at least a couple of days; then they’ll decide if they have to operate. Plus I have some kinda toxicity.” He sniffed and Hutch could see all of Starsky’s misery written on his face.
“Toxicity? Operate? Hey buddy, one thing at a time ok?”
“Numero uno; I have a dodgy fracture but it might need a little surgery; the traction is to see if that can be avoided. Second; they found a tiny puncture wound on my neck and they think I was stung or something. Apparently I have traces of toxicity in my blood that indicates a severe allergic reaction.”
“I think I understand.” Hutch sat down heavily by the bed.
“He thinks he understands. Isn’t that wonderful! I don’t fucking understand but you think you do.” Starsky’s voice was rising as he spoke and Hutch sensed a Starsky-tantrum coming on. But as he reached the end of the sentence his partner’s voice cracked and he sobbed. “It hurts. It hurts more than it ever hurt after I was injured in ‘Nam.”
“Haven’t they given you anything for it?”
“Yea, but it still hurts when I’m due for another dose. The doc says that I can have an intravenous when the toxicity is out of my system.” His voice trailed off and Hutch handed him another Kleenex. Starsky blew his nose loudly and asked for another one to wipe his eyes. “Hey buddy, do me a favor and get me a damp towel; I’d hate the pretty nurse to think I have been crying.” He winked, one eye absolutely motionless and the lid of the other making a quick up and down.

“Do you remember anything about what happened?” Hutch asked gently.
“Nope. I was running after wise-guy and the next thing I knew was a pain and I must have blacked out. I think I remember my leg giving out under me; but I really don’t know.”
“Did you notice any wasps…” Hutch caught the look in his friend’s eye.
Starsky may have been in pain but he couldn’t resist it: “What apart from you, Blondie?”
“I asked for that didn’t I?”
”Yep.” Starsky tried to laugh but the pain was too much for him and he sank back into the pillow in tears. Hutch knew that his friend needed to rest and he was about to yell for the nurse when she reappeared with hypodermic. Starsky held out his arm obediently and turned his face away from her, and Hutch, knowing how much his partner hated shots after someone had put poison in his veins, sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. Within minutes Starsky was asleep.
Hutch and the nurse left as quietly as possible. “I’ve never seen anyone go to sleep as quickly as he does after a painkiller,” she said. “Yes,” Hutch answered, “even a Tylenol knocks him out for about an hour.”

Hutch went back to his car and pulled the parking ticket out from under the windshield wiper. That was all he needed, another run-in with an overenthusiastic meter maid. Right now the ticket was the least of his worries. He’d seen Starsky through plenty of pain; but he’d never seen his partner reduced to tears by it, not physical pain at least. He had a feeling that Starsky hadn’t told him everything and he decided to go back into the hospital and find the doctor.
Back in front of the nurses’ station Hutch asked to see the doctor in charge of Starsky’s treatment. The nurse spoke to someone on the ‘phone and then told to follow her. They went down the corridor past Starsky’s room and into a second waiting area; the nurse indicated a seat and told Hutch that the doctor would be with him in a minute.

Dr Andie Jameson was around thirty five. She had auburn hair drawn up into a strict know on the back of her head and her glasses gave her a distinctly “no nonsense” air. She showed him into her office. “Sit down Officer Hutchinson. What can I do for you?”
“I need to know if there is something my partner hasn’t told me.”
“What has he told you?”
“That he’s in pain. That he has some kind of toxicity that means you can’t do much for him yet. That you think he was stung by something.”
“He’s told you that he is in pain, but has he told you about the numbness?”
Hutch stared at her.
“Did he mention anything else?”
The vision of Starsky apparently unable to reach the buzzer flashed across his brain. “I though maybe he had to lie still.”
“He has to avoid moving the leg, but he does not have to lie still. He has pain in his left leg. More worryingly he can not feel the other leg.”
Hutch stared at her. Starsky could not feel his right leg. “But I don’t get this. He fell; it’s weird enough that he has a broken leg, but I don’t understand the rest.”
“Neither do I; for the moment. I expect he told you that we are giving him minimal pain relief because of the toxicity and that is true to a certain extent but unfortunately it is also because we need to know when he regains sensation in the other leg. An intravenous dose of pain killer might mask the recovery. We are still testing the blood samples to try to identify the toxin. Do you know if he is allergic to insect stings or anything?”

Hutch thought for a while and then remembered the day that they’d been on a picnic. Starsky was stung by a yellow jacket and his hand had swollen badly. Abby had some anti-histamine pills with her and one of those had brought the swelling down. Hutch had to carry him to the Torino and drive him home; he had fallen asleep a few minutes after swallowing the pill.

When Dr. Jameson heard this story she picked up the ‘phone. “This is Dr. Jameson I’d like you to run a test for insect venom….yellow jackets, wasps, bees that kind of thing. The patient had a reaction to a yellow jacket sting about six months ago.” She turned to Hutch “I hope this is a step in the right direction.”
She stood up. “I’m afraid I have other patients Officer Hutchinson but I will let you know as soon as I have anything new. I think David is very lucky to have a friend like you. He’s going to need your support in the next few days.”

“I’ll be here whenever I’m not doing my side of the investigation.”

He picked up the radio but before he had a chance to call in Mildred came on the air.
“Zebra Three?”
“Mildred you must be psychic!”
“Captain Dobey wants you now. N. O. W. Hutch.”
“I’m on my way.” He sighed and headed for the precinct.
As he walked along the hallway Hutch stopped for a second in front of the candy machine. Looking around to make sure no-one caught him in the act he tried Starsky’s trick and tapped the machine just above one of the drawers. Nothing happened!
He went into Dobey’s office with what he hoped was a cheerful expression on his face.

“Good morning Hutchinson; glad you decided to join us.”
“I stopped by Starsky’s place to get a few things for him”
Dobey smiled. “We’re all thinking of him. Now I have a new case for you.” He pushed a file towards Hutch before he could protest that he was already on a case. Hutch read it but Dobey was telling him the contents at the same time. A man had been found dead in an alley. The only witness was a child of around eleven years old. No-one knew who the child was and the child did not or could not speak.
“I guess I’d better see if the kid will tell me something.” He looked up at Dobey as if needing his confirmation.
“You can try but I don’t see why you should have more luck than anyone else.”
‘I can but try Captain.” Hutch stood up, “I’ll go down to Juvenile hall right now and spring the kid.”
Hutch drove down to Juvenile Hall and asked to see the kid. The social worker was Maggie, an old friend; she took Hutch along to the kid’s room. “We still don’t know who he is Hutch. He won’t speak but he draws pictures all the time. I’ll show you a couple before we go to see him.”
Hutch stared at the drawings. One showed a man lying on the ground. His dark hair was curly and he was in a narrow passageway. The second showed a man lying by a trash can; he looked dead. Hutch couldn’t take his eyes off the first picture. Maggie saw him staring at a paper and not knowing which picture it was said “He must have seen it happen.” “Yea” said Hutch distractedly.
“The picture of the man dead in the alley?” Maggie asked.
“No. It’s the other picture that worries me.”
“Why?”
“It’s Starsky. He fell yesterday - at least I think he did, I didn’t see him go down. But Maggie, when I got to him he was out cold and he has a broken leg. Take me to the kid.” They went down the corridor and into a bedroom with four bunk beds. Three of the beds were empty but on the lower bed on the left a little boy sat drawing. When he heard them come in he looked up and stared at Hutch; then went back to his drawing.

The child was ten, eleven at the most. He was dark skinned and something about the set of his eyes made Hutch think that he maybe came from South America.
“Hi,” said Hutch in as casual a voice as he could muster? “I see you are good at drawing.”
The kid looked at him but did not otherwise react.
“He either doesn’t understand or he refuses to speak, Hutch.” Maggie said quietly. We tested his hearing and it’s fine. He might be autistic, but I don’t think so – see how he looks you square in the eye? Most autistic kids avoid looking at anyone directly; on the other hand there is this obsessional behavior pattern - he just goes on drawing the same pictures over and over again.”
Hutch watched the kid for a few seconds and then sat down beside him. “What’s your name?” No reply. Is occurred to Hutch that maybe the kid was from South America and so he asked him his name again – this time in Spanish.
The kid’s face lit up at the sound of his native language. “Pablo”
“Hi Pablo,” Hutch continued in Spanish, “do you understand any English?”
Silence. Hutch sensed his fear and reassured him that no-one was going to harm him. He turned to Maggie; “Hey listen I can get by in Spanish but I may need a little help here.” Maggie started out of the room; “I’ll find Rosaria; she can be your interpreter.”

When she had gone Hutch tried to get the kid to explain the drawing of Starsky; but his Spanish wasn’t up to it and the kid just stared at him; then went back to his drawing; always the same picture of a dark curly haired figure lying huddled near a trash can.
Rosaria came into the room. “Hi Hutch; I hear the Spanish lessons didn’t prepare you for kids!” She grinned; most of Hutch’s Spanish was best kept to speaking with informants in the barrio – and perhaps if he had a Spanish-speaking girl friend!

“Could you try to find out about that picture he keeps drawing?”

Rosaria began to talk gently to the kid and Hutch could see that he was opening up a little. Things seemed to be going well until suddenly the kid began to cry silently. Huge tears rolled down his face and his frail body was racked by the silent sobs. Rosaria put her arms around him and hugged him close to her saying in Spanish the same formula that mothers all over the world use to comfort a child in distress.
“I think that’s enough, Hutch.” She said looking at him over the kid’s heaving shoulders. “Wait for me outside and when he’s calmed down I’ll come and tell you all he told me.”
Hutch went out of the room and sat in a chair; he picked up a magazine and flicked through it without really even taking in what it was about.
It was ten minutes before Rosaria finally felt she could leave the kid alone. She walked over to Hutch and said “I’m off duty now, why don’t you buy me a drink and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Ok, I’ll take you to The Pits.”
“The Pits! Sounds really wonderful, where do you take women you don’t like?”
“This place belongs to a good friend. It doesn’t live up, or should I say down, to its name.

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“I think Pablo does speak and understand English.” Rosaria was sitting on the sofa in Hutch’s apartment. The drink at The Pits had led Hutch to make her a friendlier proposition. Hutch was fussing around with some pasta and trying to remember how Abby made her Carbonara spaghetti sauce. “You do? That’s a relief!”
Rosaria came over to stand beside Hutch; she gave his cock a friendly tug “Do you really want to eat right now?” She asked him. Hutch looked slightly bashful and then stammered “No, I…I… er…I can’t remember how to make this stuff anyway.”
“We could send out for something later.” Her voice had gotten husky and Hutch could feel the effects of her hand.
“A lot later.” He said and turned to kiss her fully on the mouth. Still kissing they started the strange waltz of lovers as they try to get to the bed before one or both of them falls. Hutch struggled out of his clothes while Rosaria gave him a spectacular strip show; then she moved over to the bed and lay down beside him. By now his erection was full and she took his penis in her hand. “Hello buddy” she said and slid across Hutch’s chest to greet her new “buddy” with her lips. Hutch couldn’t believe what was going on. He’d never have imagined that Rosaria was capable of this; he lay back and enjoyed every second of it. Rosaria knew what she was doing and at just the right moment she released him and slid herself into position, straddling his hips and bearing down. Hutch let himself go.

Later, a lot later they were sitting in the restaurant down stairs. Rosaria could not believe that Hutch had never eaten there. It was a simple French style bistro. The day’s specials were chalked on a blackboard and they both ordered the Chicken Kiev.
Over a bottle of red wine from the Napa Valley Hutch got to know Rosaria a bit better.
They did not bother with dessert.

The next morning Hutch woke to find Rosaria snuggled against his shoulder. Her dark hair framed her oval face and in sleep she looked like a madonna. Hutch reflected that no madonna would have done what Rosaria had done for him!
Trying not to disturb her; he slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Peeing made him aware of a slight chafing; the proof that he had not imagined all of last night’s entertainment. He shaved and showered and went out to the kitchen area to get breakfast going. The clink and rattle of the cups and coffee pot woke her up. She sat up in bed, holding the sheet up to her chin in a mockery of innocence.
“Is it really time to get up?” She pouted.
“’Fraid so. I have to try to get to the bottom of what happened to Starsky. And I need you dressed and ready to come and help me with Pablo.”
He brought her a cup of coffee and went back to the kitchen counter to whip up his morning concoction. Rosaria disappeared into the bathroom.

The ‘phone rang and Hutch went to answer it. It took him a few seconds to find the ‘phone buried under a discarded shirt and Rosaria’s panty hose.

“Caught you in the act huh?” Starsky sounded much brighter than he had the day before.
“Hey, I was about to leave for work.”
“Sure you were. I need you to do me another favor.”
“Anything buddy, you know that.”
“Well since I’m not going to be driving for a while the car may as well have an overhaul. Would you take over to Merle for me?” Starsky started reeling off a load of technical things that he thought the car needed; Hutch cut him short. “Hey Starsk, you know that you’re speaking double Dutch to me.”
“Better than single Yiddish!” Starsky was definitely on form this morning.
Hutch promised to take the Torino over to Merle; he’d get Huggy to follow him and give him a ride home.
“Do you want me to bring you anything?”
“No. Hey Hutch, you could call my mom and tell her I’m in hospital…tell her they won’t let me take calls for a coupla days; give me time to feel up to her hysterics long distance.”

Hutch smiled. The last time Starsky had been out of action Lily had called him every day to check that he was OK. And she called Hutch because she was convinced that her son wasn’t telling her everything!
“Yea, OK I’ll call her. From the office and I’m not giving her my new number!”
“You’re a pal.” Starsky was doing his Bogey routine and for once Hutch appreciated it.

Rosaria came out of the bathroom; fully dressed. Starsky was saying something else but Rosaria came over and started to kiss Hutch; making it difficult for him to keep a hold of the ‘phone. A voice in the receiver said “Hey I thought you were on your way to work!” and just before the line went dead Starsky made an obscene sound.

Hutch drove Rosaria to Juvie and they went to find Pablo. Maggie came out to meet them and they both saw the worry in her eyes.
“He’s not here. A couple came and said they were his uncle and aunt; he didn’t seem too happy about it but everything was in order and they’ve taken him home.”

“Where’s home?” Hutch asked her. She handed him a slip of paper with an address over near UCLA. “Looks a little high class for a kid like Pablo.” Hutch said. Rosaria took the paper. “Silly, at an address like that she’s probably the maid and he’s the handyman!”
Whatever the status of the uncle and aunt Hutch and Rosaria were on their way to find out who they were.

Hutch slowed the car and they counted off the house numbers. This was a neighborhood of leafy avenues and three-car garages. Each house seemed to vie with its neighbor for the title of “home of the year”. Hutch slowed to a halt in front of house number 30156. The lawns were perfect and they rolled down in successive slopes to the front of the house. The driveway was paved a pale yellow and took two curves before it split one way to the garages and one to the porch. The house itself was Spanish Style, a Hollywood hacienda probably built for a minor star in the thirties. The white stucco needed to be freshened a little but otherwise it was a house that Hutch could only dream of. He re-started the engine and drove slowly up the drive to stop in front of the porch. He and Rosaria got out of the car and went to the door. She pushed a button and deep in the recesses of the house they heard the echo of a three-tone chime.
The door was opened by a young woman in mid twenties. She was wearing a long flowered caftan and had flowers braided into her long black hair. Hutch noticed that she was barefoot.
“Yes?” The Spanish accent was unmistakable.
“We’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Lopez.” Rosaria told her.
“I’m Elvira Lopez. What can I do for you?”
“Well ma’am,“ Hutch said showing his badge at the same time, “you could start by letting us in.”
Elvira Lopez looked at the shield in Hutch’s hand and opened the door to beckon them in.
“Does this have anything to do with my nephew?”

They followed her across a black and white tiled hallway and out through a sunny atrium then on into the garden. There were teak recliners arranged around the kidney shaped pool and Elvira motioned to them to sit down.

“Mrs. Lopez.” Hutch started.
“Elvira, please.”
“Mrs….Elvira. We would like to speak with Pablo if that is possible. We think that he may have been the witness to an attack on my partner.”
Elvira blinked quickly – but not quickly enough for Hutch to miss the change of expression on her face. For a split second he saw fear in her eyes. He leaned forward to reassure her “Pablo is in no danger, Elvira. I just need to know what he saw; if he saw anything.”
She recovered her poise and said “Why do you think he saw what happened to your partner?”
It was Rosaria who answered the question : “Because he keeps drawing the same thing over and over and his picture is of Ken’s partner.”

Before they could discuss it any further they were interrupted by an explosion of small children who came running out of the house and headed straight for the pool. In a series of splashes, punctuated by squeals and giggles four kids aged around ten or eleven hit the pool. One of them was Pablo. One of the little girls was a miniature version of Elvira.
When Pablo saw Hutch and Rosaria he climbed out of the pool and came running over. With the usual total disregard of a kid of his age he climbed onto Elvira’s lap and sat dripping happily in her arms. The fact that she had a sopping wet ten year-old on her lap didn’t seem to faze her at all. She kissed his head and put her arms around him protectively. “Do you remember these people, Pablo?” she asked him gently.
He looked at Hutch steadily and then turned away. “Yes. His friend got hurt.”
“That’s why I came to see you Pablo,” Hutch said, “I wondered if you could tell me about it.”
Pablo stared at him and you could see him weighing Hutch up; deciding whether he would talk to him or not. The kid shrugged and climbed of Elvira’s lap. He went over to Rosaria. “Will he give me a ride in the red and white car?”
Hutch looked at him. The kid had definitely seen Starsky, he remembered the car.
“Yea sure.” He said. “It’s not my car, it’s my friend’s but I know he’d be happy for you to have a ride in it. I tell you what; I’ll come by later and take you out.”
“We could visit your friend.” Pablo said lowering his eyes so that Hutch could see the long dark lashes. He wondered who the kid reminded him of; thought about it and then put the idea right out of his mind. He checked with Elvira that it would be all right if he dropped by around three thirty and then he and Rosaria left.

“I’ll drop you off at work. I have a couple of things to do in the office.”
They sat in silence in the car. Hutch was still trying to put the image of Pablo’s eyes out of his mind. Rosaria was not trying to put the image of last night out of hers.
Hutch dropped her off at Juvie and drove to the precinct.

****************************************************************************************

At three thirty Hutch drove the Torino up the driveway of the Lopez house. In the precinct he’d done a little homework and found that Elvira Lopez was a soap opera star from Mexico who was hoping to break into Hollywood. Her husband, Miguel; was her manager. According to some of the people Hutch had spoken with he managed more than just her acting career. So far she had not had a break and it was said that she was sleeping her way to an audition – and not always for free.

Pablo was waiting for him. His eyes lit up when he saw the Torino. Hutch opened the door with a bow and ushered the kid into the passenger seat.
“I thought we could go and see my friend in the hospital. He’d like to meet you.”
“OK.” The kid sat back in the seat and waited for Hutch to start the car. The Torino’s growl seemed to give Pablo a big thrill and he grinned from ear to ear all the way to V.A.

Hutch told Pablo to wait for him a second and settled him onto the brown couch. He checked with the nurse that Starsky was fit to be seen and then went in.
Starsky was propped up on a couple of pillow and his leg had been lowered a notch or two. He still looked very pale and his smile did little to hide his misery. Hutch explained about Pablo and Starsky listened attentively. “Bring him in Hutch. I promise too be nice.”

Hutch led Pablo into the room. The little boy ran over to Starsky’s side and held his hand. “You’re Ok! I thought they’d killed you.”
Starsky patted the bed and Pablo hopped up to sit beside him; his dark curly hair and big blue eyes were uncannily like the cop’s. Hutch began to feel that something weird was going on.
Starsky put his hand on the kid’s head and said softly “Wanna tell me what happened ‘cos I do not have the faintest idea.”
Pablo paused then looked at Hutch as if to say “Not in front of him.” Starsky smiled and said to his partner. “I haven’t had a decent chocolate bar in days. Willya go and see if they sell my favorite in the store in the hall?” He looked at Pablo. “What kind do you like?” Pablo named his favorite and Starsky grinned; “guess you’d better get two then.”
Hutch took the hint and left.

Starsky let Pablo take his time, but nothing came out. The kid sat in silence. Starsky tried again. “Look Pablo, you seem to know what happened to me; and I do not have the foggiest notion. It’s kinda scary not knowing how I ended up in a hospital.”
Pablo looked up at him. “What if they find out I told you?”

Starsky closed his eyes. Deep in his brain he heard a gun shot and the image of a man in uniform slumped in an alley; his head in a pool of blood.

“Ok I’ll go first. Once upon a time…”
Pablo stopped him “hey I’m not a baby you know I don’t want to hear a fairy tale.”
“This is not a fairy tale, Pablo, but maybe if I tell you my story you can tell me yours. Deal?”
“Deal!”

“OK. Once upon, a time in New York a kid of fourteen was coming home one evening from the grocery store…..”

Hutch came in just in time to hear: “…..the kid was me, Pablo.”
Starsky looked up and said to Hutch; “Hey I forgot to ask you to buy me a couple of magazines.” He named a magazine devoted to cars and another about scale model making. Hutch went back to the hospital store.

“Ok,” said Starsky, “I reckon you have about ten minutes.”
Pablo started to tell Starsky his story. When Hutch came back again Starsky was holding the kid against his shoulder and Hutch could see that Pablo was crying.
Starsky said gently “I think it’s time for Pablo to go home. I’ll see you later, Blintzie.”

Hutch took Pablo home. He decided not to call Rosaria until he had spoken with Starsky.
When he arrived at his apartment the ‘phone rang. “I thought maybe we could have supper at my place this time.”
Something in her voice made Hutch want to sing. He promised to come by around nine and headed for his bedroom to change his clothes. He would pop in and see Starsky en route.
He reached into a cupboard under the sink and found a bottle of Chianti that had not been opened. He couldn’t help remembering when Starsky had said that he was amazed that Hutch didn’t make lamps out the empty bottles. “It goes with the macramé plant holders.” He’d quipped. “For a man who has a two colored moving spirit lamp in his house that was a low remark.” Hutch had answered. Starsky had smiled his half smile and said “It went when Sally went. Frankly I don’t miss either of ‘em!”

Starsky was lying back on the pillows when Hutch came into the room; and Hutch could see that he had been weeping again. “Still hurting you kiddo?” he said trying to keep it light. A sniff was the only answer he got. He pulled a chair up beside the bed on Starsky’s right and put a comforting hand on his best friend’s shoulder. Starsky moved his left hand over and touched his friend’s arm. “Thanks. Thanks for just being there.”

Hutch was pretty sure that Starsky must be due for another dose of morphine and he wanted to find out about Pablo before Dave went off again to the land of Nod.
“You want to tell me what Pablo said?”
“No.”
“Whaddya mean ‘no’? I’m trying to sort this one out alone; I have no leads and you won’t tell me Pablo’s story.” Hutch was angry and the fact that Starsky was so impassive didn’t help. Lying in the bed, his head propped up on a pillow Starsky maintained a deadpan expression.
“I’m so tired Hutch. It hurts…” the tears rolled down his cheek again.
“That’s not all; is it? There’s something you don’t want to tell me. I spoke with the doctor Dave; I know about the numbness.” His friend turned his head to look at him. His eyes expressed a deep unhappiness and Hutch suddenly knew that the pain and the numbness were not why Dave was so upset.
“He reminded me of myself, Hutch. Fuck it, he even looks like me!”
“I noticed. Hey you didn’t ever rob banks in Mexico did you?”
At least that made Starsky smile!

The nurse came in and when Starsky saw the syringe he looked at Hutch and said “Stay until I’m asleep willya?” Ken knew what that meant; it meant that Dave wanted his friend to be there when she stuck the needle in. “Big baby.” He whispered in Dave’s ear as he put an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

Starsky spent the night in the arms of Morpheus and Hutch spent his with Rosaria.

When Starsky woke the next morning he had pins and needles in his right leg. He tried moving his right arm and found that he was aware of the movement. It felt kind of disconnected but his arm was responding. With the deliberate carefulness of a drunk who knows that he has to concentrate on each and every movement to avoid keeling over Starsky willed his right arm to scratch his right leg. And he could feel it! He was about to reach for the buzzer when the Doctor Jameson came in. Starsky grinned at her.
“Good news.” They both said it at the same time.
“After you.” Starsky put on a fake British accent and gestured a bow with his hand.
Dr. Jameson laughed. “Well I’m glad to see you are feeling better. Now I have two pieces of good news for you. First, we won’t need to operate.”
“Are you going to take that thing away?” Starsky gave the traction sling the evil eye.
“Not for another day or so…unless you want me to operate.”
“No way! What about the other bit of good news?”
“We’ve found the source of the toxicity. It took a while, we went through venom and poison we had on record and then one of the research students in toxicology decided to run one more test…”
“And the winner is…” Starsky interrupted her.
“The winner is a rare vegetable poison from Peru.”
“I’ve never been further south than Mexico.” That made her laugh again.
“Sergeant Starsky are you flirting with me?”
“Momma I met a doctor; I think she likes me!” Starsky delivered his line in a perfect imitation of Topol in the movie Fiddler on the Roof.
“Sorry Dave, I’m married with three kids.”
Starsky clicked his tongue against his teeth and fakes a disappointed pout.
“Ok,” he said, “I won’t hold it against you and I’ll tell you my news. I can feel my leg and
I can move the arm.”
“That’s very good news. I’ll need you to describe exactly how the sensation comes back.”
“It started with an itchy tingling feeling near the ankle…”
“And now?”
“And now it still feels the same.”
“Every time you feel something new I want you to make a note of it.” She put a notepad on the bedside table.
“With pleasure ma’am.”
Dr. Jameson left the room and she was giving the nurse instructions for a drip for Starsky’s pain relief when Hutch arrived.

“Officer Hutchinson. One minute please.”
Hutch stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “Do you have something for me?”
“We’ve identified the source of the toxicity. If you come to my office after you’ve visited your friend I’ll give you the details.”

Hutch pushed the door open gently. Starsky was humming (out of tune as usual) his version of a Beach Boys song. Hutch sat by the bed. “Hey buddy, the doctor tells me they found the stuff that poisoned you.”
“Yep. And I can feel my leg and arm again.”
Hutch was almost tempted to kiss him.

Starsky had a whole list of things he needed Hutch to bring him; Hutch dutifully noted it all in his little black notebook and slipped it in his pocket.
“Hutch? Don’t forget the black thread and the needles.”
“I won’t. See you later Buddy.”
“I’m not going anywhere Blintzie.” He lay back against the pillow and sighed.

Hutch went straight to Dr. Jameson’s office. She handed him a page with the breakdown of the poison and its possible sources. He started to read and stopped about halfway down. “Yucca plants!”
“Yes. But they grow wild here so that’s no great help to you.”
“Maybe not, but I know a garden full of them.” He was out of the room before she could ask him what he was talking about.

Back in his car Hutch debated with himself whether to go to the precinct or straight to the Lopez house. He opted for the office and turned the car in the appropriate direction.

Dobey was waiting for him. “Come in my office Hutch there’s something you need to hear.”
They sat down and Dobey slipped a cassette into the tape machine on his desk. A man’s voice with a Spanish accent spoke slowly and clearly as though reciting something that he had learned by heart.
“Detective Starsky has a son. He deserted my sister before the child was born. He has always refused to acknowledge his child or to send my sister any means of support.
My sister and I have decided that it is time for him to pay.”

Hutch stared at Dobey. “That’s crap Captain. Starsky may be a dark horse but he adores kids, he’d never have deserted one of his own.”

“It’s an interesting accusation. However I don’t really believe it. I do believe that it has something to do with what happened to Starsky.”

“I think I’m beginning to understand some of this Captain.” Hutch had stood up and was pacing up and down the office; Dobey watched him like a spectator at a tennis match.
“Either stand still or sit down; you’re making me feel seasick.” Hutch opened the door and ran down the corridor.

In his car he took the radio and called dispatch. “Patch me through to Dobey please Mildred.”
“Captain? Sorry I ran out like that but I think I know who the so-called mother is. I’m on my way there. I’ll keep you posted.”

He stopped about fifty yards from the Lopez house and parked the car where it could not be seen from the house. He got out and walked the rest of the way. He didn’t walk up the driveway but stuck as close to the cover of the hedge. As he came close to the house he could hear a child crying. Not the sobs unhappiness but the crying of a child in distress, a scared child, a child that someone was doing harm to. He went over to a window and being careful not to let himself be seen from inside peered into the room. Pablo was cowering in a corner and Hutch could see the shadow of a man. He thought about his options and decided to take the cool approach. He went up to the door and pressed the bell. The door opened almost immediately; not by Elvira but by woman dressed in a maid’s uniform. “Excuse me for bothering you; but my car broke down and I’d hoped I could use your ‘phone.” The maid showed him to a small table in the hallway; he did not get a chance to go any further. Elvira Lopez appeared from one of the doors off the hall. She was holding a gun.
“I thought you’d be back eventually.” She said. “Please raise your hands.”
Hutch stared at her; his right hand went instinctively to the inside of his jacket; the click of trigger sliding into position made him think better of it. He raised both hands.

A second door opened and a man came out of the room. He walked over to Hutch and deftly removed the Magnum from its holster. He stepped back and used Hutch’s gun to lead the detective to the same door that he had appeared through. In the room Hutch could see Pablo cowering in the corner. The child’s face was streaked with tears. When he saw Hutch he smiled and then began to cry again. Hutch went towards Pablo.
“Stay away from him.” Elvira was shouted. “Keep away from him.”
Elvira’s husband, (or was he her brother, perhaps they weren’t even related, Hutch had no way of knowing) waved the gun in a signal to Hutch that he should sit down on the floor. Mindful of Pablo’s safety Hutch decided to do as he was told. Elvira tied his hands behind his back; tightening the cord a little more than was necessary – he had the feeling that it gave her pleasure.
“You aren’t his mother are you?” Hutch tried to keep it conversational. “I don’t know how you did it; and I don’t know why you did it, but I do know that the poison that knocked my partner out came from your garden.”
She stopped in her tracks. She was wearing a long cloak like dress and her silhouette against the light of the door made Hutch think of Cruella Deville in the Disney cartoon.
Elvira turned round. “What do you mean?”
Hutch struggled to keep his voice as even as possible. “I mean that Starsky was poisoned with an extract from a Yucca plant. I mean that someone from South America would know how to get that extract. I mean that you are using Pablo as a bait. I mean that I do not believe for one minute that Pablo is Starsky’s son; and I don’t believe that you are Pablo’s aunt or mother.”

Elvira stared at him. She seemed to sink down and then drew herself up; visibly pulling herself together. “He is my son. And your partner is his father.”
“Prove it. Come with me to the hospital it’s a simple matter of blood tests.”
She smiled at him. “You think you can trap me, don’t you? Well you can’t. By the time you and Pablo are found your partner will be dead.”
“Why?” Hutch shouted after her back as she left the room and closed the door; he heard the lock click into place. He shuffled over to the child. “Pablo? Are you ok?”
Pablo turned and Hutch saw the bruises on his face and arm; someone had beaten the kid and he’d tried to ward of the blows. The kid moved towards Hutch. His hands were free and he could untie Hutch.
As soon as his arms were loose Hutch picked Pablo up and carried him to the window. He watched as Elvira and the man drove away.
“OK time for you to be very brave. I can’t get through this window but you can. My car is just down the road a little way – you remember it?” Pablo’s eyes lit up. “Sorry to disappoint you kid, it’s my car not the Torino.” Pablo registered a little disappointment then said “Your car is a scruffy gray one.”
“Yes. It is not locked. You take a hold of the microphone and you press the button and you say ‘Mildred, Hutch is in trouble’; keep saying it until someone answers. Then you tell them where we are. Can you do that?”
“Sure,” said Pablo. Hutch slipped the window catch and pushed Pablo out of the window. He sat on the floor and waited.
He reckoned that Pablo would need about five minutes to get to the car; that’s if no-one stopped him. Add another five for Mildred to get the message and send out reinforcements and another ten or so for them to get there. He resigned himself to waiting. “Wait, wait, wait! I thought I did enough of that in the army!” he remembered Starsky’s moaning about a long stake-out where nothing seemed to be happening.
“That’s it! Pablo can’t be his kid. He must have been in, ‘Nam ten eleven years ago!” He said it out loud as if to convince himself.

It seemed like hours before Hutch heard the comforting wail of police sirens coming along the street. The room reflected the flashing red and blue lights of the black and white that was coming to a halt in front of the door. Voices echoed in the hallway and the door opened. Dobey’s fat frame was silhouetted in the light. Hutch thought of the bear in Jungle Book!

Back in the hallway Hutch heard Pablo call his name. “This is my mom.” He said holding the hand of the maid who had let Hutch into the house what seemed like hours ago.
They went into the kitchen. Dobey was already installed at the table and eating home made cookies. Pablo’s mother poured coffee. “I can explain.” She said.
“Pablo is my son. His father is Elvira’s brother. Elvira was very famous in Mexico; she was a star in a soap opera that everybody watches at lunchtime. She came to Hollywood to be famous in America, but she has no real talent and even the people that she sleeps with will not give her a part in their movies. She said that she was going to find a way to be famous. She said that she had written her own movie and that Pablo would be in it; that is why I came here with my son. The she tried to take my son away from me. She took him out with her one day and when they came back he was frightened and unhappy; this happened twice. Elvira said that they had been filming scenes that frightened him. Each time Pablo drew me a picture.” She pointed to the refrigerator door. Hutch did not need to look to know what the pictures were of.
“Today she said that she is ready for the final scene.”
Do you know where she has gone?”
“She was dressed as a nurse.”

Hutch looked at Dobey and the two them left the kitchen as fast as the fat man could run. Hutch ran down to his car and Dobey got into the black and white telling the driver to get him to V.A. as soon as possible.
Sirens screaming the black and white and Hutch’s car both screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. Hutch ran into the building. “Hold that elevator!” he shouted; flashing his badge at the man about to step into it. Hutch pushed the button for Starsky’s floor and prayed that he was not too late. As the elevator doors opened he saw the door to Starsky’s room close behind a nurse leaving the room pushing an intravenous drip stand.

Hutch ran along the corridor, narrowly avoiding an old man in a wheel chair and burst into Starsky’s room. His blood ran cold.
Starsky was lying very still. The tube ran from the drip bottle to a vein in the back of his hand. Hutch wondered whether he should just pull it out or call for a nurse.
The commotion that he had caused running to Starsky’s room had alerted the pretty nurse at the desk. She arrived in the room and came over to the drip stand.
“Who put this here? Doctor Jameson had to stop the treatment because his numbness came back.” She carefully removed the needle from Starsky’s vein and closed the drip tap under the bottle.
“Wait a minute.” She looked carefully at the liquid in the bottle. “This isn’t morphine!”
She went over to Starsky and lifted an eyelid; a big blue out of focus eye stared blankly at her. She reached across the bed and pressed a button, on the wall panel “Code blue room 305. Code blue room 305.” Within seconds another nurse and Doctor Jameson arrived. The doctor felt Starsky’s pulse and asked the nurse to take his temperature and blood pressure. “He’s in a coma.”
The pretty nurse showed her the drip bottle. “My God. It’s the same poison as before. I wonder how much he has had.”
“They set it up just before I arrived!” Hutch was halfway out of the door. He ran down the corridor in the direction that he had seen Elvira leave. As he passed the nurses’ lounge he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. He pulled out his gun and stood to the side of the door before letting himself into the room. Elvira was changing out of her nurse costume. Hutch primed the trigger; the click made her turn round.
“You’re too late,” she hissed “he’s already dead.”
“Why? Why Starsky?”
She spat at him and remained silent.
“You are under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer. You have the right to remain silent….” Hutch got the cuffs out of his pocket and clipped them onto her wrists.
Outside Starsky’s room Dobey was talking to a cop in uniform; Hutch delivered his prisoner and he and the Captain went into the room.

Doctor Jameson was injecting something into Starsky’s arm. She looked up and smiled. “He’ll be fine. The poison is not lethal enough to have killed him; but it would have paralyzed him for life if I didn’t have the antidote. Fortunately for your friend it is a standard drug; you’d be surprised how many people let their kids chew the plants in the garden – and you’d be surprised how many of them are poisonous.”

Hutch looked at Starsky’s sleeping face. He touched his partner’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, Curly”. He went over to the armchair and settled down for a long vigil.

****************************************************************************

Hutch stayed by Starsky’s bedside all night. Around one in the morning he heard his friend begin to moan and he went over to look at him. He was still spark out but his face was twisting in distress. Hutch touched his arm and Starsky half opened one eye.
“You Ok?” “Yes, I guess it was just a bad dream.” He turned his cheek to the pillow and went back to sleep instantly. Hutch went back to his chair.

They were both still asleep when breakfast arrived. Starsky took one look at the tray and slumped back on the pillows. “Their idea of coffee is worse than yours. And as for the rest of this stuff….” Hutch laughed; “Fussy eater!”
“Do me a favor go bring me some apples or something I can’t eat this stuff.”
“OK; I’d better get out of here or Dobey will be screaming.” He started to leave.
“Apples. Oh and Blondie; from when do you call me ‘Curly’?”
“I thought you were asleep!”
“I noticed!” Starsky picked up the lame excuse for a sweet roll on his tray and threw at Hutch.
“Missed!”
“Wait until I’m back in shape.”
Hutch grinned over his shoulder and closed the door behind him.
Starsky slumped back. The effort of throwing the roll at Hutch had caused a sharp pain in his arm. He’d overdone it and he knew it. “I’ll just have to learn to be patient I guess.” He sighed and waited for the nurse to come and wash him.

Hutch was sitting at his desk when Elvira was brought into the Squad Room. A night in the holding cells hadn’t improved her character one little bit. The vision of Cruella DeVille came back into Hutch’s head as she sat down at the side of the desk.
“Can’t you at least ask them to take these things off?” She snapped and held up her wrists to show the cuffs.
“Standard procedure. You are accused of attempting to kill a police officer.”
“Kill him! I didn’t want to kill him, just put an end to his career.”
Hutch rolled a page into the typewriter and poised his hands ready to take down Elvira’s deposition. He started by asking the standard questions. Full name; address etc. etc.
Then she started to tell her story.
“I came here two years ago. In Mexico I am a star, but here? Here I am a nobody. I tried to find work as an actress. I did not want to spend the rest of my life in soap operas; I want to be in a film. I brought my sister here with her little boy. His father left her before he was born. I told her that she could work for me and that I would look after Pablo. But I did not get a part in a film. I had to do dirty things to people in power in the studios before they would even pretend to find me a film. I was running out of money. I learned to do many things in producers’ offices and in the trailers that the actors use at the studios. I learned that in Los Angeles the things I did could earn me lots of money. And I learned that if the magazines knew about what certain people did in their private lives………….” Her Spanish accent intensified as she told her story; giving it a complaining melody.
“You are blackmailing someone?”
“Perhaps. Let me finish.”
Hutch nodded slightly with an expression of distaste on his face.
“I started to work for a man who sent women to many stars and famous people. His name was Larry Rey I did what they wanted and I made money. Not enough to live like I was still a star, but enough to fool my sister. Miguel is not so stupid. He soon knew that I was not going to the studios to work in the movies. He decided to take of the management of my career.”
“He’s your pimp?”
“Yes. But I also went on working for the other man. A year ago they had a big fight, Miguel and the other man. Miguel decided to put him out of the picture. My mother knew the old customs in our country. She taught me how to use the plants for food and for medicines and she taught me the bad things plants can do to a person you do not like. I made the poison for Miguel and he used it. Miguel is very good at the game of darts; he never misses his target.”
Hutch stopped her. That is the first picture that Pablo drew.
“Yes. I did not realize that he had seen what happened. I had told him to stay in the car.”
“And Starsky?”
“Your partner; he’s a good cop. He was investigating Mr. Rey. He was going to arrest him, but Miguel got to Larry first. But because of your partner Mr. Rey’s business was closed and I did not have enough work. When I saw your partner he reminded me of Pablo. I knew that if I could hurt him I could pretend that it was because of Pablo.”
Hutch stopped typing. “Pablo could not be his son. Starsky was in Viet Nam when Pablo was born.”
“I know who Pablo’s father is, Mr. Cop. He is in Mexico. He is also a big star in a soap opera. It is because I tried to blackmail him that I came to America. He made them fire me. Miguel is on his way to Mexico now. He will see that the big star has an accident.”
Hutch could barely keep the disgust out of his voice. “You did all this out of vengeance? Tell me the name of Pablo’s father before it is too late. It might help you in court if you do.” She gave Hutch the name. He grabbed the ‘phone. “This is Hutchinson at Police Headquarters. I need to contact the police in Mexico City – homicide -….yea….yea…put me straight through please….thanks.” He looked at Elvira still sitting poised and proud. She showed no sign of remorse, of guilt or of any other emotion at all.
“Hello? This is Sergeant Hutchinson LA Homicide. I have a prisoner who has confessed to two crimes here and she informs me that there is a man on his way to kill Emilio Sanchez. Yes….yes….Miguel Lopez. You do? That’s great. Happy Hunting…..Glad to be of service. My partner is in the hospital right now maybe when he gets out we’ll come visit you for his convalescence. Sure. Thanks.”
He put the ‘phone down.
“Do you have anything else to tell me?”
She stared at him, her face impassive, her eyes absolutely dead. Either she was a better actress than she was given credit for or she was a psychopath. Either way Hutch knew that her lawyers would try to use psychiatric evidence to get her off. He didn’t want to have to look at her any longer. He ‘phoned down to the holding cells and someone came to take her back to her temporary residence.

***********************************************************************

Starsk was at long last allowed to get out bed. He could just about make it to the bathroom on his own – showering without supervision was still out of the question and he was disappointed to see a male nurse appointed to the task! Because of a residual weakness in his arms he was not yet using crutches; instead he pushed a walking frame or if Hutch was around he leaned on him. He started going a little further every day and within a week with the help of intensive physiotherapy his arms were strong enough to control the crutches. Hutch arrived one day in time to see Starsky making speedy progress down the corridor in pursuit of a new pretty nurse.
“I’m impressed. You move on those things like they are attached to you.”
Starsky grinned. “I’ve had a lot of practice buddy; a lot!”
“Yea, I guess you have.” He smiled at his friend. “When are they going to let you out of here?”
“Tomorrow. Will you go and see if Merle has finished with my car.”
“Hey, you won’t be driving for a while.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean we have to go around in that heap of yours, does it? Anyway the experience will be good for you; it’s time you learnt to handle a real set of wheels.”
“Starsk, wait a minute. You are getting out of here, but you won’t be back at work until the cast comes off.” Hutch was guiding Starsky back to his room as they spoke. The darker man was silent for a while. He ducked his head and sighed. “Hey let me have a few fantasies…apart from that nurse over there helping me to take a shower.” He pointed a crutch at a very pretty nurse who grinned at him. Despite a broken leg and a period of partial paralysis Starsky was still capable of perfect balance; but when the nurse grinned he faked a wobble and Hutch caught him. Starsky pulled back slightly and looked Hutch square in the eyes “Hey, don’t give her the wrong idea!”
They both laughed and went back into Starsky’s room.
It was so full of flowers it looked like the florist had transferred his shop from the entrance hall. Hutch went around the different displays and read the cards. Starsky’s mother; Uncle AL; The Dobeys; Huggy and his staff; the guys from the squad room; Mildred and Millie; and even a couple of their ‘contacts’; they had all sent Starsky flowers to congratulate him on his recovery. Hutch looked at his partner who was sitting on the edge of the bed getting ready to swing his broken leg up. Once he was settled Starsky winked at him and started whistling (in tune!). It took Hutch a while to recognize one of Streisand’s newest hits: “You don’t bring me flowers………”. He threw the pillow off the chair at Starsky. “I thought you were allergic to them.”
“Ok then, where are the chocolates?”
Hutch gave up.

Two days later Starsky was back home. The moving had to be postponed and the two landlords were understanding enough not to expect him to pay double rent. Once he was up the steps he could only leave if Hutch came to help him.
Hutch and Huggy came to visit as often as possible. Hutch had told Starsky the story about Pablo and Dave insisted that they go and see the kid and his mother in the hotel that they were staying in until they went back to Mexico. Getting Starsky down his steps and into the car was getting easier for both of them. They’d re-found their natural rhythm and like Astaire and Rogers they moved in perfect harmony with one another. The two cops took the kid out as often as possible; they went to the park, to ballgames and to pizza places. With every day Starsky seemed to regain more and more of his old strength; both physically and emotionally. When the day came to take Pablo and Cecilia to the airport Starsky said he wanted to drive. Hutch nearly had a fit.
“You can not drive Starsky. You may not have noticed but you have plaster from your thigh to your ankle.”
“Left leg, dummy. I don’t need it to drive! I’ll push the seat back a little.”
Hutch went into Starsky’s bedroom and opened the bureau drawer; he removed the two sets of keys to the Torino and put them in his pocket. Starsky appeared in the doorway and lunged at him to retrieve his car-keys. He fell onto the bed as Hutch stepped to one side. “You’re nearly there buddy, but not quite.” Starsky admitted defeat.
Halfway down the steps Starsky stopped. “You go on; let me try to do this on my own.”
Hutch watched in amazement as Starsky swung his leg down each step in a strange exaggeration of his usual walk. When he arrived at the bottom he used both crutches to get him over to the car in three long swings. Hutch opened the door for him and held one crutch as he lowered himself into the seat.
“You’ll be doing that for another couple of weeks. I don’t know how I’d get through them if you weren’t around.”
“Hey Curly; that’s what friends are for.”
Starsky raised the other crutch and Hutch made for his side of the car.
“You wait until I’ve got rid of these things!”
They both laughed.

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